


The Middle of the Ride

by SunriseRose1023



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Homophobia, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Secret Crush, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-10-28 03:56:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10823244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseRose1023/pseuds/SunriseRose1023
Summary: Cas and Dean have been friends forever, and Cas has been in love with Dean for just about as long. When they're getting ready to graduate high school, life begins hitting Cas especially hard. Can he gather up the courage to tell Dean how he feels? And what's more, will he discover that Dean just might feel the same way too?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the Destiel Reversebang over on LJ and Tumblr. I chose an amazing piece of art by @emmatheslayer, which can be found here: 
> 
> http://emmatheslayer.livejournal.com/428890.html

[ ](http://s1376.photobucket.com/user/sunriserose1023/media/a9c52c00-645a-4b98-8ffa-541a98956c05_zpsi94m72ce.jpg.html)

Cas blinked open one eye, squinting it as he saw his phone on the pillow beside him, illuminating the darkness of his bedroom. One of Linkin Park’s greatest hits was blaring in his ear, yet was quiet enough so as not to disturb the rest of the house. He fumbled one hand out from under his pillow, wincing at the tingling numbness that flowed through his fingers as he slid one across the screen, answering the call.

“Hello?”  
“Wake up, bitch! We got big shit to do today!”

Cas rolled over, squinting at the clock on his bedside table. He groaned, laying his head back on his pillow, keeping the phone at his ear. 

“It's not even six A.M. yet.”  
“You act like I care. Get up. I'm on my way to pick you up.”  
“I don't function before the sun comes up when school’s not in session.”  
“I've got breakfast burritos and coffee as black as your soul.”

Cas lay still for just a moment. 

“Yeah, I'm up.”

Cackling laughter flowed through the speaker, and Cas sat up on bed, yawning widely. He stretched his arms, then sighed. 

“Give me twenty minutes.”  
“You've got ten.”

The phone beeped as the call ended and Cas groaned as he hauled himself out of bed. He walked to the bathroom and showered quickly, deciding to take the easy route and let his hair do as it pleased. He grabbed a pair of jeans and threw a shirt on, and he was putting the finishing touches on his eyeliner as his phone began to ring again. He slid his finger across the screen, not even able to speak before the familiar voice filled the line. 

“As much as I want to honk, I'm not wanting to meet the wrath of your parents. Come the hell on down. I'm here.”

Cas couldn't answer before the call went dead. He rolled his eyes, grabbing a hoodie and throwing it on, yawning as he pushed his feet into a pair of shoes. He made his way down the stairs as quietly as he could, scrawling a note on the chalkboard in the kitchen before exiting through the front door.

\-----

Cas had his eyes closed, slumped back with his feet up on the seat. He continued to take bites of his breakfast burrito, but didn't open his eyes. His best friend sat in the seat beside him, fingers tapping on the steering wheel, matching the beat of the music that was coming from the car’s speakers.

The sun was beginning to rise, just beginning to shine through the windshield. The air was still cool, something Cas knew since the windows were rolled down. He let his coffee cool, only sipping it when the car came to a complete stop. 

“Why even bother? I'll get you iced coffee next time.”  
“Shut up. I don't trust your driving.”  
“I am offended. I drive excellently, thank you very much.”  
“You say that, but ever since I had to wear that cup of coffee--”  
“Christ, Cas. That was one time years ago. I had just gotten my license!” 

Cas shook his head, but smiled. 

“But you'd been driving for ‘your whole life,’ hadn't you, Dean?”

If Cas had his eyes open, he was certain he'd see Dean with his green eyes narrowed at him. Even behind the dark sunglasses Dean already had on his face, unnecessary with the height of the sun, but necessary for the look Dean was all but famous for. 

Leather jacket, dark wash jeans, boots, black t-shirts, and dark shades. Kind of a juxtaposition to Cas’ all black ensemble, combat boots or Converses, and eyeliner. Or “guyliner,” according to his friend Meg. 

Cas cracked one eye open, just enough to peek over and see Dean’s profile, watching his plump lips form the words to “Band on the Run,” as his “80’s Greats” playlist came through the speakers. It wasn't so much a playlist as it was an actual cassette tape, but neither of the boys really minded. Dean had almost blown a gasket when Cas suggested updating the car’s sound system with a satellite radio, CD player, and a jack for an auxiliary cord. Dean has tried to explain it to him many, many times before. 

“Part of Baby’s appeal,” Dean refers to his car as “Baby,” and Cas has forgotten to let it bother him, “is that she's still got all her original parts.”

That wasn't entirely true, since Cas knew for a fact that Dean and his dad had replaced “Baby’s” spark plugs, some sort of filter, and even a carburetor at varying intervals. Dean loves to work on the car, and loves to tell Cas about it, even if Cas hasn't the faintest clue what they're talking about. 

Cas realized that the car had come to a stop, and he blinked open his eyes, squinting against the brightness of the sun. He yawned, reaching over and taking a long gulp of his lukewarm coffee, barely making a face. He glanced out the window, nodding slowly before he looked over to Dean, who'd taken the keys out of the ignition and was staring at them as he moved them between his fingers. 

“I, uh … I thought maybe we could start out here? If you … if you don't mind.”  
“You know I don't mind. You want me to come with you?”

Dean shook his head. 

“You can sit in the car, if you--”  
“I'll take a walk. Take your time.”

Dean nodded, not lifting his eyes from his keys. 

“Thanks, Cas.”  
“Anytime.”

Cas waited until Dean had gotten out of the car, hands in the pockets of his jacket as he walked through the fields of stone. Cas let out a sigh, climbing out of the car, putting his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie. He yawned again, shaking his head and widening his eyes as he started walking in the opposite direction from Dean. He came to a stop, tilting his head to the side. 

“Good morning, Agnes. Harold.”

Cas leaned in closer, reading the inscription and numbers etched into the stones. He nodded as he pursed his lips, glancing around the empty cemetery, finally seeing his best friend knelt down in front of a pink stone. Cas sighed again, turning back to the stones in front of him.

“Dean, he … He likes to come here and talk to his mom. He’s embarrassed by it, even though i’ve told him there’s no reason for him to be. He doesn’t like to come here with his dad, and his brother was too young to remember her. But he doesn’t want to come by himself, you know? So I come with him, let him have his time, and find interesting people like you to talk to.”

Cas pursed his lips and nodded.

“What does that say about me?”

He sighed, rolling his shoulders.

“Well, you have a nice day.”

Cas nodded to the stones, making his way to a different row, walking slowly, taking the time to read the stones, the different inscriptions on them. He continuously glanced up to make sure Dean was okay, but tried to be discreet about it. 

After an hour, Dean stood up, brushing his pants off and making his way back towards the car. Cas was back in front of Agnes and Harold’s gravestones, and Dean came up beside him. Cas nodded towards the stones, speaking softly.

“You remember when we’d come up here when we were kids?”  
“When we’d ride our bikes?”

Cas nodded.

“You remember the ‘game’ we’d play?”

Dean let out a laugh.

“The one where we’d make up the life stories and how the people died?”

Cas nodded, a smile on his face.

“We were a couple of weird-ass kids, man.”

Dean threw his head back and laughed, and Cas couldn’t help the smile that bloomed over his face. Dean shook his head, a blinding smile on his face.

“Look at us now, man.”  
“We never had a chance.”

They both laughed, and Dean stepped over, laying a hand on Cas’ shoulder.

“So what did you decide about these two?”

Cas shrugged.

“What do you think?”

Dean leaned in, studying the headstones.

“Spanish influenza. Obviously got her first, and he followed, since there was no cure.”

Cas nodded, a soft smile on his face.

“I think they were married for fifty years. I think she got something--”  
“Spanish flu.”  
“Whatever. But when she died … he couldn’t cope. So, four months later, he died of a broken heart.”

Dean laid a hand over his heart.

“Cassie …”  
“Don’t. Do not call me Cassie. You know I fucking hate that.”

Dean cackled, squeezing Cas’ shoulder.

“Come on. We’ve got shit to do.”  
“What shit? You said that earlier, but offered no explanation.”  
“Trust me.”

Cas blinked, but pushed a smile on his face.

“You know I do.”  
“Then come on.”

Dean turned and walked to the car. Cas turned as well, watching him go. He licked his lips, feeling his heart pound in his chest. Dean had one hand on the handle of his door, turning back and flashing Cas a smile as he slid the sunglasses on his face. He slid into the car and Cas felt his heart skip a beat.

“Oh, by the way, I love you. Goddamn it.”

Cas blew out his breath, shaking his head as he slid his hands back into his pocket, trying to bring himself back to normal before he sat beside Dean for the rest of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

“So, Mr. Novak, how did you spend your spring vacation?”

Cas narrowed his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. Meg, his best friend and confidant, sat across down from him, pulling her dark hair up into a ponytail. Cas raised one eyebrow at the industrial piercing in her left ear, and she gave him a smile, dimples shining in her cheeks.

“Finally got it.”  
“And your parents didn’t freak?”  
“They’ve turned most of their attention to my little brother. Guess they’ve finally marked me off as a lost cause.”

Cas snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. Meg gave a low whistle, nodding at him as she finished with her hair.

“Seriously, Cas. Spill. What great fun did you have last week?”  
“Uh, not much. Same old shit.”  
“You spent all week with Dean?”

Cas nodded, and Meg rolled her eyes.

“Tell him you’ve got a huge man-crush on him?”

Cas rolled his eyes, and Meg shook her head, reaching into her bag and pulling out a Ziploc bag of Sharpies. 

“Are you ever going to nut up and tell him?”  
“Sure, Meg. When do you think the best time would be for that? Now? In front of God and everyone we’ve been in class with since we were snot-nosed kids on the playground? Or maybe when he’s working at the garage with his ex-Marine father.”  
“Jesus, did you get your period this morning? Moody. Don’t get all pissy when I just get here.”

Cas sighed, rolling up his sleeve as Meg moved her chair around the table, until they were sitting right beside each other. She uncapped one of the markers, gliding it over Cas’ skin. After a moment of silence, Cas softly spoke again.

“You don’t get it.”  
“I think I get more than you think I do.”

She glanced up at him, and Cas lifted an eyebrow. Meg took that as a sign to continue, which she did as she looked down at his arm, continuing to draw.

“First off, the fact that you’re both guys. This is Kansas, not San Francisco. People would shit. Second, you think you’re not good enough for him--don’t move, damn it.”

Cas shrank back in his chair, waiting until Meg had resumed drawing before he spoke again.

“I don’t think that.”  
“And I spent my spring break off the coast of Italy, on my yacht.”

Cas chuckled at that, and Meg went on.

“You’ve got all sorts of excuses, you know. It’s not the right time; we’re too young; he’s not gay; you’re not gay. Whatever. If you want to find a reason not to, you always will.”

Meg capped the marker, placing it back in the bag before she grabbed another one. She took the cap off and leaned in to continue drawing, before she suddenly stopped, leaning back.

“Prom.”  
“What?”

Meg moved to where she could look Cas in the eye. He shook his head, and a wide smile grew over her face.

“You should go to prom with him!”

Cas barked out a laugh, ignoring the groups of kids around them who either turned to look at them or shot them dirty looks.

“Yeah, Meg. That’s a wonderful idea.”  
“I’m fucking serious, you douche.”  
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten the fact that we’re just friends. He doesn’t like me like that. He doesn’t like guys like that!”  
“Allegedly.”

Cas rolled his eyes, and Meg sat back, pursing her lips and nodding.

“Oh, yes. Hell yes. We’re doing this.”  
“Stop it.”

Meg widened her eyes, and Cas shook his head.

“No. We are not making this some She’s All That moment.”  
“I’m not betting you. Well … not yet.”  
“Meg, please.”

She let out a sigh, moving to rest her forehead on the table they were sitting at. Cas moved to push a hand through his hair.

“School hasn’t even started yet, Novak. What’s already wrong?”

Cas swallowed, opening his eyes and smiling.

“Hey, Dean.”

Dean moved his bag from his shoulder, putting it on the ground as he sat in one of the chairs. He gave Meg a wink, receiving her middle finger in response, and he let out a laugh. He leaned over, studying the design on Cas’ arm.

“Is that a dragon?”  
“It will be … eventually.”  
“Righteous.”

Cas snorted, and Dean cut his eyes towards him, then leaned back in the chair, propping his feet up on the table. 

“So what was up before I graced you with my presence?”  
“Oh, you know. Same old shit.”  
“Cas’ crush?”

Cas’ eyes widened, and Meg shot him a look, giving a minute shake of her head as she went digging for another marker. Dean nodded his head as he lifted his sunglasses for a second, meeting Cas’ eyes before he let the glasses settle on his nose again.

“You think you’re sneaky, Novak, but you are not.”  
“Oh, really?”  
“Yep.”

Dean popped the “p” on the end of the word, and Cas swallowed. Dean let out a laugh.

“You look so nervous!”

Cas rolled his eyes, trying to let the coolness of Meg’s marker on his skin ground him. Dean moved, putting his feet on the ground and leaning forward, resting his forearms on the table.

“So who is she?”

Cas blinked, and Dean went on.

“She go here? She’s not like one of Sammy’s friends, is she?”

Cas just knew Meg had to be biting her tongue. He looked over to see Dean’s expectant face, brows raised behind his sunglasses.

“Uh, no, she … she’s not.”

Dean tapped his fingers on the table in front of them.

“Well, who is it then? One of the unattainables? That cheerleader that transferred from Michigan or whatever?”  
“You mean Cas’ cousin, Anna?”

Dean made a face, and Cas snorted as he laughed.

“Yeah, not her.”  
“Oh, Christ. It’s not Meg, is it?”  
“Fuck you right up and down, Winchester.”

They all laughed at that, and Castiel looked down, watching as the dragon Meg had created on his arm seemed to be blowing a blast of fire towards his hand. He let out a sigh, speaking a bit softer.

“The truth is, she … is not a she.”

The Sharpie froze in mid-air, and Dean sat up, moving his feet off of the table and onto thr ground, reaching up and taking the sunglasses off his face. His eyes were huge and his mouth was slightly hanging open. Meg glanced up, looking from one boy to the other. She cleared her throat, putting the cap on the Sharpie and placing it back in the baggie. 

“I think that’s my cue to go suffer through English. Best of luck, Clarence.”

Cas sighed, watching as she walked away. He turned his attention back to Dean, who gave a minute shake of his head.

“Seriously?”

Cas nodded.

“You’re gay?”  
“I think so. I mean … I’ve never tested the theory, but women don’t interest me.”  
“At all? Like the boobs and the … none of it?”

Cas shook his head, and Dean sat back in the chair.

“Huh.”

Cas studied the dragon on his arm, while Dean didn’t say anything else. A sense of dread started to fill Castiel, and he spoke quietly.

“If that … if that bothers you, we--we don’t--”  
“No, it …”

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“You’ve always liked guys?”

Cas nodded, and Dean put his sunglasses back on.

“Then nothing changes. Same ol’ Cas, just some new information.”

Cas smiled, nodding at the dragon before lifting his eyes to Dean. Dean was smiling, sunglasses perched back on his nose, and Castiel let out a laugh as the bell rang, signaling time for classes to begin. Dean groaned as he placed his feet on the ground, and Cas stood up, stretching his arms and grabbing his bag. Dean was dragging his feet as Cas waited at the door for him, but he threw his arm over Castiel’s shoulders as they made their way into the building.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean sighed as he walked into the house, kicking his shoes off at the door and dropping his backpack on the couch. He walked straight to the kitchen, fishing out a cold can of Coke, popping the top and taking a long drink. 

“Long day?”

Dean glanced over his shoulder to see his fourteen-year-old brother at the table, a mischievous grin on his face, books and papers spread out before him. Dean snorted, walking to the table and ruffling Sam’s hair.

“Yes, you little shit. When did you get home?”  
“I took the bus.”

Sam shrugged a shoulder, reaching for a pencil. Dean walked back to the refrigerator, opening the door.

“Thirsty?”  
“Is there a Gatorade in there?”

Dean nodded, bending to grab the yellow drink and walking it to the table. Sam nodded when he took it from him, unscrewing the top and taking a long sip. Dean nodded towards the papers spread over the table.

“What’cha got going here?”  
“Calculus.”  
“Aren’t you a freshman?”  
“I’ll never get into Stanford taking regular math, Dean. Might as well get the hard stuff out of the way now.”

Dean shook his head. He was barely passing his math class—a remedial one, at that—and his genius little brother was already taking senior-level classes. He ruffled Sam’s hair again, then walked to grab one of the chairs beside him, turning it backwards and straddling it, taking another long sip from his Coke. Sam scratched the pencil along the piece of notebook paper for a moment, then flicked his eyes towards his brother.

“Something on your mind?”  
“What are you, my shrink?”

Sam snorted.

“No, I just know you. What’s up?”

Dean sighed, resting his arms over the back of his chair. 

“I don’t … I don’t know.”

Sam leaned back in his chair, pushing the papers and books aside, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table.

“Talk to me, Dean.”

Dean sighed, shaking his head. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again, quietly.

“What would you do if one of your friends told you something that pretty much changes everything?”  
“How so?”

Dean licked his lips, staring off towards the refrigerator.

“What if … your friend, Ruby … Like, you didn’t think you’d ever have a chance with her, you know? But then, one day, she makes it clear that you do have a chance. You get what I’m saying?”

Sam’s eyebrows were furrowed, but he slowly nodded.

“So, what you’re saying is … if I liked Ruby—and let’s be clear here, I do not.”

Dean rolled his eyes and Sam went on.

“If I liked Ruby, but she didn’t like me. Or I thought she didn’t like me, until one day I found out she does like me?”

Dean tilted his head from side to side, then nodded. Sam pursed his lips, then spoke again.

“So, you’ve liked one of your friends and now you find out they like you back?”  
“Not really. More so I didn’t think I stood a chance. Like, I didn’t think I could ever get with this person in a million years, but today I found out that … it’s possible.”  
“Are you going to keep talking in confusing metaphors, or can we lay the cards on the table?”

Dean swallowed, shaking his head, speaking softly.

“I just don’t think I can. Not yet.”

Sam nodded again, then shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, from what I can understand here, you’ve been wanting this for a long time. Why not just go for it?”

Dean let out a quiet laugh.

“It’s not that easy, Sammy.”  
“Why not?”

Dean lifted his eyes from the table, and Sam leaned towards him.

“Dean, you and I both know that life is too short to stand back and wait. If you want something, go for it. Who gives a fuck what other people think?”  
“Dude, language.”  
“Dude, you talk worse than that all the time.”  
“Well, yeah, but I’m older. I can. Your scrawny ass needs to still be watching Barney and Sesame Street still.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“I’m almost as tall as you.”  
“Shut up. No, you’re not.”  
“Bet!”

Sam jumped to his feet, and Dean pushed up from his chair, walking around to face his brother, blinking when he looked him straight in the eyes.

“Holy shit. You are.”

Sam’s smile seemed to light up the room.

“I bet I’m going to be even taller than Dad.”  
“He’s got like an inch on me, so I wouldn’t be too surprised if you did.”

Sam kept smiling, until he bounced his eyebrows.

“Oh hey, speaking of. Dad called before you got home. He’s going to be stuck at the station until late tonight, so we’re on our own for dinner.”

Dean groaned, walking to the refrigerator and pulling it open.

“There is literally less than shit in here.”

Sam laughed, and Dean stood up, leaning on the door.

“You want to go somewhere or order something?”  
“My show comes on tonight. Can we order pizza?”

Dean rolled his eyes. Sam had one television show that he was absolutely obsessed with. He never missed an episode, if he could help it. Dean, while not quite as obsessed, still enjoyed the show, and he kind of wanted to watch it, too. He nodded, then met Sam’s eyes.

“Dominoes?”  
“Obviously. Cheesy bread?”  
“Yes. But no salad or any kind of vegetable on the pizza.”

Sam gathered up his materials and walked in front of his brother.

“Jalapeno peppers are vegetables, Dean.”

Dean went still, then nodded.

“Fine, _one_ vegetable on the pizza.”

\- - - - -

Castiel sat at his desk, finishing up his Calculus homework. Well, he was _trying_ to finish up his homework, but his mind kept wandering.

Dinner, as usual, was a downright exhausting affair. Since he was the youngest of his siblings, he was the only one still living at home. And, he was the only one his parents could harp on. They were constantly nitpicking his appearance, his mother constantly lamenting that this “phase” of his had lasted much longer than they’d hoped. His father wasn’t any better, speaking about how no respectable company would hire a man who wore makeup and let girls draw on his arms. 

Cas had never been happier to have a load of homework, and as soon as he’d scarfed down the broccoli on his plate, he excused himself and locked his bedroom door. 

He pushed his hands through his hair, looking over at the corner of his desk, where a picture of him and Dean sat. It was from second grade, when neither of them had front teeth, and Cas had suffered through a lisp until his teeth grew in. When the other kids tried to make fun of him, Dean threatened to beat them up, cementing his and Cas’ best friend status.

Maybe that was when Cas fell in love.

He couldn’t really pinpoint it. He and Dean had always been friends, extremely close. Especially for a pair of boys. They got even closer when Dean’s mom got sick, and Cas had sat on the front row beside Dean at her funeral. The spot reserved for family, one of the nuns had tried to explain, but a hard glare from Dean and the curt explanation that “Cas is family” had her quickly backing off.

Cas sighed, pushing his hands through his hair again, picking up his pencil and finishing up the last two problems. As soon as he’d finished the last one, he looked over at his cell phone, smiling when the phone lit up with an incoming call. He slid his finger along the bottom bar, answering the call, putting the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Dean.”  
 _“Hey! What are you doing?”_  
“Just finishing up calculus.”  
 _“Ugh, kill me. Hey, are you in Sammy’s class?”_  
“Yes. I thought you knew that.”  
 _“Should have known you dorks would be put together.”_

Cas laughed, and Dean cleared his throat.

_“Hey, you uh … you wouldn’t have happened to finish your Spanish work, would you?”_  
“Why, so you can copy it in the morning?”

At the silence that answered him, Cas laughed again.

“Yes, it’s done. And it’s a guaranteed A.”  
 _“Fuck yes.”_

Cas laughed again, shaking his head.

“I like how I can count on you, Dean.”  
 _“You can always count on me, Cas. No matter what.”_

Cas smiled as he stood up from his desk, walking to his bed and flopping down across it, letting out a sigh as he rolled to his back.

_”What are you doing now?”_  
“Starfishing across my bed. You?”  
 _”Same. Listening to my dad snore loud enough to wake the dead across the hall.”_

Cas laughed. He had spent the night with Dean many times throughout the years, and he knew from firsthand experience that John Winchester snored like a grizzly bear.

“Got your earbuds ready?”  
 _“How do you think I’m talking to you?”_

Cas chuckled under his breath and stared up at the ceiling. He was struck with a thought, and wondered if the glow-in-the-dark stars he and Dean had stuck to the ceiling in his old house when they were kids were still there, or if someone had come in and taken them down.

“Hey, Dean?”  
 _“Yeah.”_  
“Remember my old house? Over on Murray Street?”  
 _“Yeah, where I busted my ass on my bike and ate concrete?”_

Cas winced.

“Jeez, I’d forgotten about that.”  
 _”Three stitches on my elbow, Cas. And two teeth got knocked out. They were baby teeth, but still.”_  
“Sorry.”  
 _“Eh, it wasn’t your fault. Hey, why you heaving up nostalgia tonight?”_  
“I don’t know. I was just looking at the ceiling and thinking about—“  
 _“Oh, all those stars we gummed up at your old house?”_

Cas swallowed.

“Yeah, exactly.”

Dean’s voice was quiet when he spoke again.

_”We had some good times over there, didn’t we?”_

Cas swallowed again.

“Yeah, we did. Things were … simpler back then.”  
 _“Tell me about it.”_

Cas was unable to stifle the yawn that seemed to bubble up from his toes. Dean laughed, then spoke again.

_“You sleepy, Cas?”_  
“Apparently so. Dinner was especially brutal tonight.”  
 _“Why?”_

Cas sighed, rolling to lay on his stomach. He kicked his shoes off, listening to them clatter on the floor before he spoke again.

“My mother is harping on me more than usual here lately. She’s always got some snide little comment about my hair or my clothes or my shoes. My dad always brings up how no self-respecting CEO would ever hire someone—no, not ‘someone,’ a man—who wears eyeliner.”  
 _“So I take it you haven’t told them that you’re not going into the family business.”_  
“I haven’t decided yet.”  
 _“Oh, like hell you haven’t.”_

Cas sighed, pushing a hand through his hair.

_“You listen to me. You’re damn good. You want to be a comic book artist, go be one. What’s the worst that can happen?”_  
“I end up homeless and starving and die on the street.”  
 _“Well, first off, I’m not going to let you die. Two, you’ve always got a place with me, Cas. Always.”_

A warmth filled Cas’ chest, and he licked his lips before he spoke again, so softly Dean almost didn’t hear him.

“Thank you.”  
 _“I mean it, Cas. Long as I’m here, you can be where I am.”_

Cas closed his eyes, thinking how easy it would be to tell Dean how he felt. One quick ‘I love you,’ and …

His whole life would be ruined. 

Cas coughed instead, then spoke again.

“I’m falling asleep here, Dean.”  
 _“Yeah, me too. Plus, we’ve got to be up at the ass-crack of dawn for school tomorrow.”_

Cas groaned, then nodded.

“Get some rest.”  
 _“You too. See you in the morning.”_  
“See you.”

Cas pressed the button on the screen to end the call, then let his head fall back on his pillow. He took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He scrubbed his hands down his face, then huffed out a breath. 

Could he be any more pathetic?


	4. Chapter 4

“Have you been working out?”

Cas glanced over at Meg, who had her hand around his bicep, gently squeezing.

“Dean’s dad has a bunch of weights out in their garage. We lift sometimes.”  
“Huh.”

Cas rolled his eyes.

“Don’t give me that.”  
“I didn’t say anything!”  
“You didn’t have to.”

Meg sighed, pulling the top off a green Sharpie. She started drawing, and Cas watched her for a minute, noticing how the tip of her tongue slid between her lips as she concentrated.

“What’s this going to be?”  
“Koi fish. Super popular in the tattoo world.”

Cas sighed, nodding his head. Meg lifted an eyebrow, which was a silent sign that he needed to elaborate. 

“It’s just … you know what you want to do. You’ve known for … a while.”  
“What, like after graduation?”

Cas nodded.

“We’re only eighteen, Clarence. You don’t have to have it figured out just ‘cause I do.”  
“I’m not eighteen yet.”  
“Oh, that’s right. Because if you were, you’d have a real one of these. Hey, maybe I can do it for you!”

Cas let out a laugh. Meg arched one eyebrow.

“Do you not trust me?”  
“I let you draw on me every single day, and I have for the past two years. I’m just not sure our friendship has moved from Sharpies to an actual needle puncturing my skin stage.”

Meg rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. You’ll give in. And then one day, when I’m super rich and famous, you can say I gave you one of your first tats when I was just starting out.”

Cas smiled.

“We’ll see.”

Meg grinned back at him.

“It’s not a no. I’ll take it.”

The marker slid across his skin, and Cas leaned back in the chair, letting out a sigh. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, eyes opening when he smelled the familiar aroma of his best friend. Dean nodded to him, taking the seat next to him, picking his sunglasses up to inspect Meg’s work. 

“Koi?”  
“Ten points to you, Winchester.”

Dean grinned, sitting beside Cas, leaning back and lacing his fingers together over his stomach. They were all quiet for a moment, the only sound being Meg’s marker sliding over Castiel’s skin, until Dean spoke up.

“Busy tonight?”

Meg nodded, not looking up from her drawing.

“I’m working at the tattoo parlor. They’re letting me practice tracing and placing, and as soon as I can get graduated from this hellhole, I can go for the piercing certification.”  
“Sweet.”

Meg nodded again, moving to cap her marker and pick up a different colored one. Dean nodded to Castiel.

“What about you, Cas?”

Cas opened one eye, then shrugged his shoulders.

“No plans. Dad’s working late—thank God—and it’s Mom’s bridge night.”  
“You mean the night where they set the cards on a table and then drink wine and gossip?”

Cas smiled, nodding to Meg.

“That’s the one.”

Meg grinned, dimples shining in her cheeks as she began using the new marker on Castiel’s koi fish. Dean sat up in the chair, leaning closer to Cas, watching Meg.

“She’s really good.”  
“Well, she’s had plenty of practice.”

Dean chuckled, then spoke again.

“How about you and me do something tonight? Dad’s working late and Sammy’s got a study group or some shit at the house.”

Cas nodded.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Dean smiled, sliding his sunglasses in place.

“Awesome.”

\- - - - -

Dean stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection. He’d fought with his hair until it finally did what he wanted. He was wearing black jeans and a white t-shirt, his trusty leather jacket, and the boots his dad had got him for his birthday. He slowly nodded, letting out a breath.

“Hot date tonight?”

Dean closed his eyes, then turned around, seeing his lanky little brother leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, a grin on his lips.

“Shut up, bitch.”  
“Jerk.”

Sam’s smile never wavered, and he walked over to hop up on the counter, watching Dean spritz some cologne on his neck.

“Going all fancy tonight. Who’s the lucky girl?”

Dean mumbled under his breath. Sam’s eyebrows narrowed, and he spoke again.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”  
“I said there’s no girl!”

Sam held up his hands.

“Easy, tiger. Down, boy. What’s your deal?”  
“I don’t have a deal. Can’t a guy just get ready in peace?”  
“You’ve been ‘getting ready’ for half an hour, Dean. You never do this. What gives?”

Dean swallowed, shaking his head.

“Nothing, okay? Just … drop it, please.”  
“Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine.”

Sam nodded, but the look on his face said that he was completely unconvinced. After a moment of quiet, Sam spoke again, his voice soft.

“You know … if you ever wanted to talk about—about anything … I’ll listen. You’re my brother, and I love you, no matter what. Okay?”

Dean just nodded. They both glanced out of the bathroom when the front door opened and shut.

“Boys? I’m home.”

Sam gave Dean a smile as he hopped off the counter.

“Guess Dad and I are on our own tonight. Have fun while we eat Hamburger Helper and watch the game.”  
“Who’s playing?”  
“Does it matter? Long as it’s a game, Dad’ll watch it.”

Dean laughed, nodding his head. He let out a breath and followed Sam from the bathroom, pounding down the stairs and seeing his Dad turn back from the refrigerator, a smile spreading over his face.

“Looking sharp, son. Got a hot date?”

Dean rolled his eyes as Sam cackled behind him, bumping him with his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen. Dean slipped the keys to his car into his pocket, and John gave him a nod.

“Hey.”

Dean looked back at him, watching as Sam tried to nonchalantly pull the ingredients for dinner out of the fridge. John nodded to him again.

“Don’t stay out too late. I know it’s Friday and all, but …”  
“I know, Dad.”  
“Text me if you’re going to be late.”

Dean nodded, walking to the door, stopping with his hand on the knob when he heard his dad’s soft statement.

“I love you, son.”

Dean lifted his eyes, giving his father a smile.

“I love you too, Dad. I’ll be home later.”

John nodded, clapping his hands together as he turned back to the kitchen.

“Who’s playing tonight? Whoa, kid. Easy on the chili powder.”

\- - - - -

Cas slid down in the passenger seat, singing along under his breath to the tape in the player. Dean’s dad was a fan of classic rock, and Dean’s tastes ranged a little bit further than his father’s. Lately, he was on an ‘80s hair band kick, so Jon Bon Jovi was screaming through the speakers.

“Favorite Bon Jovi song? And you can’t say ‘Livin’ on A Prayer.’”

Dean blew out a breath.

“That’s tough. ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ is so classic. I guess … mine’s a tie between ‘You Give Love a Bad Name’ and ‘It’s My Life.’ You?”  
“’Bed of Roses.’”

Dean laughed.

“You’re shitting me, right?”  
“What’s not to like? It’s a power ballad.”

As luck would have it, ‘Bed of Roses’ began playing through the car’s speakers. Cas laughed, then reached over and turned up the volume knob. Neither boy talked as the music played, both of them listening to the words of the song, but when the chorus came up, Cas quietly sang along.

_“I want to lay you down in a bed of roses.  
Oh, but tonight I sleep on a bed of nails.”_

Dean joined in, singing just as softly, and Cas couldn’t help but look over at him.

_“I want to be just as close as_  
The Holy Ghost is,  
And lay you down on a bed of roses.” 

Cas swallowed, staring down at his hands. He let out a laugh, lifting his eyes to look out the windshield.

“My parents would probably say the song is sacrilegious. The way it mentions the Holy Ghost and all.”  
“Well, that’s what happens when your parents are weirdos who have a shit-ton of kids and name them all after angels.”

Cas snorted.

“You hit the nail on the head.”  
“You haven’t talked about your brothers in a while.”

Cas nodded. 

“Not much to report. Michael’s still the golden child, climbing up the ladder of success. We still don’t talk about Luc’s and his indiscretions. I think he’s still in jail, actually. Raphael’s in corporate law, which is so boring I can’t even talk about it. Gabe … oh, who knows with him? I’d heard a rumor that he was doing porn, but I figured that was a rumor he started himself, just to ruffle Mother and Dad’s feathers.”

Dean laughed, leaning up and hitting the steering wheel.

“Oh my god, that’s so great.”

Cas smiled.

“He’s my favorite brother.”  
“Well, he always was. Mike and Luc were old when you came along, and Raph was always too good to bother with you. Gabe was the shit.”

Cas nodded, the smile staying on his face. Dean pulled up to their favorite pizza parlor, and they went inside, sitting in the booth that they usually sit in. Cas broke out the menu, and Dean leaned against his side of the booth, stretching his arm over the back.

“Branching out tonight?”

Castiel shrugged his shoulders, not looking up from the menu.

“Don’t you wonder what a different pizza would taste like?”  
“Why mess with greatness?”

Cas laughed, nodding his head.

“I get it.”

Dean licked his lips, watching Cas as he studied the menu.

“We can get something different, if you’d like.”

Cas looked up then, a soft smile on his face.

“We know the meat lover’s is good. Like you said, why mess with greatness?”

Dean smiled.

“I don’t know. Life’s too short to get in a rut, you know?”

Cas nodded.

“So Canadian bacon and pineapple?”  
“I draw the fucking line at fruit on my damn pizza.”

Cas threw his head back and laughed, and Dean couldn’t help the smile from blooming on his face. Cas nodded.

“I was just fucking with you. Seriously though, what about this one?”

He spun the menu around, and Dean leaned over to read about the pizza Cas’ finger was pointing to. He nodded, then looked up, his eyes meeting Castiel’s. 

“We should try it.”

Cas smiled, nodding his head, and Dean swallowed before he smiled back. Cas blinked, something apprehensive slipping up his spine, but he shook it off as best he could.

\- - - - -

Cas was laid back in the passenger seat, eyes closed, fingers laced together over his stomach. Dean was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove, singing under his breath with Led Zeppelin. “Ramble On” was coming through the speakers—Dean’s favorite Zepp song—and Cas was soaking it all in. The car came to a stop, and Cas managed to stifle the groan he wanted to give. He opened his eyes, seeing his house in front of the car, and he let out a deep sigh.

“I had a really good time tonight, Cas.”

Cas smiled before he looked over at Dean.

“Me too. But I always have a good time with you.”

Jesus, why didn’t he just throw himself over the seat and ravish him? Cas glanced out the window, and Dean reached over, laying a hand on Cas’ shoulder and squeezing it. Cas looked back, eyes locking on Dean’s, and all of a sudden, time seemed to stand still. All Cas could focus on is how green Dean’s eyes were, how his tongue kept poking out of his mouth to wet his lips. Cas swallowed, and Dean leaned just a bit closer. Dean’s eyes flashed away from Cas, and suddenly he leaned back. Cas furrowed his eyebrows, until Dean cleared his throat.

“Your, uh … your dad’s on the porch.”

Cas looked over, and this time, the groan left his throat.

“Fucking perfect.”

Cas looked down as his hand was covered by Dean’s. He looked up and met Dean’s eyes, and Dean gave him a nod.

“If you need me, call me.”

Cas could only nod, and Dean gave his hand a squeeze before he straightened up and put both hands on the wheel. Cas let out a shaky breath, nodding his head as he unbuckled his seatbelt and left the car. He shut the door behind him and blinked, walking up the siudewalk. His father was standing at the door, hands in his pockets. 

“Glad you could make it home, son.”  
“My curfew’s not for thirty more minutes.”  
“Yet another thing we’ll soon discuss. Let’s go inside.”

Cas closed his eyes, turning back and waving a hand at the Impala that was idling at the end of his driveway. He stood there until he couldn’t see the taillights anymore, then turned back to see his father facing him. 

“This has been a long time coming, Castiel. Let’s go inside.”


	5. Chapter 5

Dean’s phone rang, and he made a face before he slid a finger along the bottom of the screen, answering the call.

“Meg? What’s up?”  
 _“Hate to bother you, Dean-o, but we’re in a bit of a pickle here.”_  
“What the hell are you talking about?”

Meg sighed.

_“Cas is here.”_  
“’Here’ where?”  
 _“Andy Gallagher’s house.”_

Dean sat up on the couch, scooting to the edge and putting his feet on the floor.

“Are you fucking shitting me right now?”  
 _“You know I wouldn’t.”_

Dean ran a hand down his face, shaking his head.

“He’s okay, right?”  
 _“Yeah, buddy, that’s why_ I’m _calling_ you _.”_  
“Goddamn it.”

Dean was off the couch, sliding his jacket over his shoulders, grabbing the keys to his car.

“Dean? Where are you going?”

Dean glanced over his shoulder, seeing Sam behind him with a worried look on his face. Dean sighed, moving the phone from his ear.

“Cas is in trouble. I’ve got to …”

He nodded towards the phone and Sam nodded. 

“Be careful. Call me, so I don’t have to send Dad and the blue lights after you.”

Dean snorted, nodding his head. He walked out the door and down the sidewalk, putting the phone back to his ear as he opened the driver’s side door and started the car. 

“Meg, what’s going on?”  
 _“He’s wasted, Dean. Bad. I’ve never seen him like this.”_  
“He doesn’t drink. What in the hell has possessed him to go to one of Andy’s parties?”  
 _“I asked, but he wouldn’t say. He just started pounding back shots.”_

Dean groaned.

“I’m going to kill him.”  
 _“The rate he’s going, you may not have to.”_  
“Meg.”  
 _“I know, I know. That’s why I’ve called you. I swiped his cup of straight vodka and refilled it with water, and I don’t think he noticed.”_

Dean stopped at the red light only because he absolutely had to, because John had made it very clear that he wouldn’t use his status as a police officer to get his sons out of any trouble they got themselves into. 

“Go find him and get him outside. I’m five minutes away.”  
 _“Don’t kill yourself driving over here.”_  
“Just worry about Cas, not me. All right?”  
 _“Whatever you say, boss.”_

The call ended, and Dean shook his head, keeping both hands on the steering wheel as he drove. He pulled up to a nice, fancy mansion, shaking his head again. No one would suspect the depravity that went on every weekend behind those fancy-ass doors. 

Dean licked his lips, leaving the car and stalking up to the front door. He twisted the knob and the door opened, and he immediately made a face when the smell of marijuana all but smacked him in the face. He shook his head, squinting his eyes at the smoky haze that permeated the room. 

“Cas?”  
“Kitchen, Dean!”

Dean jogged forward at the sound of Meg’s voice, calling out to her again to have her respond, heading in the direction of her voice. When he got to the kitchen, Meg was standing by the counter, where Castiel was bent over, his cheek pressing against the counter.

“What the hell?”

Meg shrugged her shoulders.

“I think he may have taken something. He wouldn’t tell me.”  
“Shit.”

Dean walked over, crouching down and laying a hand on Cas’ back.

“Cas?”

Cas blinked open sleepy eyes, meeting Dean’s and narrowing.

“De?”  
“Hey, buddy. Yeah, it’s me. You okay?”

Tears filled Cas’ eyes and he shook his head. Dean nodded, gently rubbing his back.

“I got you, okay? Let’s get out of here.”

Cas nodded, and Dean stood up, looping Cas’ arm around his neck as they slowly made their way from the house. The trip outside was even slower, since Cas’ feet didn’t seem to work right, and Dean had to focus most of his energy on keeping them both upright. They finally got to the car, and Dean stumbled when Cas suddenly turned around, putting his own back against the car door and grabbing onto Dean’s arms.

“Whoa, easy.”  
“De … Dean. I need …”  
“What, Cas? What do you need?”

He was quiet for a minute, then leaned forward, nestling his head against Dean’s shoulder, moving to press his face to Dean’s neck. Dean closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around Cas and pulling him even closer.

“I got you, Cas. It’s okay.”

Cas shook his head, not moving away from Dean’s embrace. Dean nodded, gently patting his back.

“Let’s go home.”

Cas moved at that, looking Dean right in the eyes.

“I don’t have a home anymore.”

Dean’s mouth opened, and he meant to ask what exactly Cas meant, but Cas chose that moment to pass out.

\- - - - -

It took everything Dean had to load Cas into the car. Sam was waiting for him at home, and helped maneuver Cas inside. Dean decided to forego his room, instead making Cas a little nest of pillows and blankets on the bathroom floor. That turned out to be a godsend, since Cas was _violently_ ill when he finally did wake up.

When everything was out of his system, Cas laid down on the bathroom floor, pale and sweaty. He moved his head to Dean’s lap, and neither of them spoke for a while. When Cas finally did, his voice was deeper than normal, but scratchy and hoarse. 

“My dad kicked me out last night.”

Dean didn’t say anything, but began stroking Cas’ dark hair. 

“He said it was beyond time for me to grow up. I had until Monday to get rid of the crap I usually wore, and then I’d be expected to dress appropriately. No more band shirts. Hell, no t-shirts at all. No jeans, ever. Suits and ties. I’d be getting my hair cut on Monday, and he’d be talking to his boss about a possible summer internship for me.”

Cas shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“I told him I’d rather die than work with him every day. That’s when my mother stepped in and told me to be reasonable. They’d given me anything I wanted up to this point, but it was time I started pulling my weight.”

Cas blinked, sniffling.

“I asked them how they could even say that. Because that’s not what parenting is about. You don’t raise a kid until they’re this age and then see what you can get in return. And then we … god, it was awful.”

Cas shook his head, finally closing his eyes.

“It ended when I told them that I was gay. My dad … My dad said I was dead to him, that he would rather have a dead son than a gay one. Mother just stood in the corner and cried. I ran upstairs, packed some shit, called Meg.”

He shook his head again.

“I just wanted to forget for a while. I know I took it too far, but you weren’t supposed to find out.”  
“Why didn’t you call me?”

Cas squeezed his eyes shut, and Dean went on, still stroking his hair.

“Why didn’t you call me instead of Meg?”

Cas shook his head.

“I didn’t …”

He sighed, licking his lips, then closing his eyes.

“I love you.”

Dean’s hand went still, and fresh tears came to Cas’ eyes, but he figured he didn’t have anything else to lose. Cas sniffled, then went on.

“I have loved you for years. The crush you and Meg tease me about? It’s you. I was at my lowest point last night, Dean. I didn’t want you to have to see that. I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

Dean was quiet, and Cas sat up, rubbing his eyes and sniffling. He shook his head, turning to face him. Dean swallowed, shook his head, then spoke in a soft voice.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Cas smiled, but the hurt was written all over his face.

“I didn’t want to lose you. You’re not gay, so I knew nothing could ever happen, but you’re still my best friend. Having a little of you is better than none at all, so …”

Cas shrugged. After a moment, Dean spoke again, just as quietly.

“You’re wrong.”

Cas closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. Dean cleared his throat, and Cas’ eyes popped open when he spoke again.

“I’m not … I mean, I’m … not technically straight.”

Cas turned to meet his eyes, and Dean shrugged.

“I love you, Cas.”

Cas’ eyes widened, and Dean smiled.

“I’m not like, into guys, but you … It’s different. I want to be with you. I want to hold your hand. I want to … do stuff with you.”  
“What kind of stuff?”

Dean laughed, leaning in closer, resting his forehead on Castiel’s. 

“All kinds of stuff.”

Cas smile lit up the bathroom, and Dean stood up with a groan, walking to the sink and pulling open a drawer. Cas scrambled to his feet beside him, and Dean laid a toothbrush in his hand. 

“Brush the gross out of your mouth so I can kiss you.”

Cas blinked, but nodded, going to the sink and doing as he asked. When his breath was minty fresh, Cas turned around to see Dean right before him. Dean reached up and brushed a piece of Cas’ unruly hair out of his face and Cas shook his head.

“I don’t want this to be because you feel sorry for me.”  
“Trust me, this is _not_ that.”

Dean sighed.

“I’ve liked you like that for … a long time. I just haven’t had the courage to do anything about it. When you came out to me the other day, it was … it was like ‘now’s your chance.’ That’s why I, uh … I kind of took you on a date the other night.”

Cas let out a quiet laugh, moving to link his hands with Dean’s.

“I _knew_ it! That was so much more than just hanging out as friends.”

Dean blushed, and Cas laughed again. Dean leaned in, pressing his lips to Castiel’s, pulling back and leaving him standing there, a shocked look on his face. Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“You wouldn’t shut up.”

Cas licked his lips, nodding.

“Shut me up again.”

Dean laughed, reaching up to cup Cas’ face in his hands, bringing their lips together again. When they were both breathing hard, Dean pulled back, resting his forehead on Cas’. After a moment of silence, Cas spoke again, quietly.

“What am I going to do, Dean?”  
“I’ve told you before. You’ve always got a place with me. We’ll talk to Dad and see if he can come up with something. You can live in my room.”  
“So we can do stuff?”

Dean laughed.

“Yeah, angel.”

Cas smiled. 

“It’s going to be okay, right?”  
“Yeah, Cas. Everything’s going to be fine. The ride’s just getting started.”


End file.
